a suspicion of this pleasant gentleman to linger in his mind. There
remained a persistent little shadow which he could not quite drive
away, but he conscientiously tried his best. As for Mr Taylor, there
never was a jollier and yet a more thoughtful companion. He seemed to
think of every mortal thing that the minister could possibly need for
his journey.

"Got your passport?" he inquired.

"Yes," said the minister. "I am carrying it in my breast-pocket. It
ought to be safe there."

"The safest place possible!" said Mr Taylor cordially. "It's all in
order, I presume, eh?"

Mr Burnett took the passport out of his pocket and showed it to him.
His guest closely examined the minister's photograph which was
attached, went through all the particulars carefully, and pronounced
everything in order, as far as an ignorant outsider like himself could
judge.

"Of course," he said, "I'm a business man, Mr Burnett, and I can tell
when a thing looks businesslike, though I know no more about what the
authorities require and why they ask for all these particulars than you
do. It's all red tape, I suppose."

As a further precaution he recommended his host to slip a few letters
and a receipted bill or two into his pocket-book, so that he would have
a ready means of establishing his identity if any difficulty arose. Mr
Burnett was somewhat surprised, but accepted his guest's word for it,
as a shrewd Lancashire lad, that these little tips were well worth
taking.

By this time the evening was falling, and at length Mr Taylor declared
himself ready for the road. He had drunk four cups of tea, and hurried
over none of them. For a moment Mr Burnett half wondered if he had any
reason for delaying their start, but immediately reproached himself for
harbouring such a thought. Indeed, why should he think so? There
seemed nothing whatever to be gained by delay, with the dusk falling so
fast and a long road ahead.

The minister's rug and umbrella and two leather bags were put into the
car, he and Mr Taylor got aboard, and off they went at last. Mr
Burnett had another glance at the chauffeur, and again was haunted by
an odd sense of familiarity; but once they had started, the view of his
back in the gathering dusk suggested nothing more explicit.

Presently they passed a corner, and the minister looked round uneasily.

"What road are you taking?" he asked.

"We're going to join the coast road from Berwick," said Mr Taylor.